Slime
by Hawki
Summary: Midora Oneshot: After the destruction of Seawind, Snow noticed a few constants in the world. There was always a monster to kill, always a quest to fulfill, always a reward to achieve. But sometimes, she just got tired of it...


**Slime**

"So you grew up in Seawind eh? What was it like?"

"Well, it was by the sea. And the wind blew. And it smelt of fish."

"…oh."

Snow could tell that Canning was unimpressed by her oh-so-vivid description of her hometown, but she couldn't put any more words in her mouth right now. She had no idea how to describe Seawind to anyone, because she'd never _had _to describe it to anyone in the past. She'd been born in Seawind. Grown up in Seawind. Lived among people who could claim the same, and thus, had no need to have Seawind described to them.

"Listen, after we heard about-"

"Don't," Snow interrupted as they continued walking through the sewer. "Don't start."

"Oh. Okay then."

Biting her lip, Snow tightened the grip on the torch she was carrying as she and Canning made their way through the sewers of Port Blue, a sea town that somehow managed to come up with an even more unimaginative name than her own town. But Port Blue, at least, was still standing. Port Blue, at least, had people in it. Port Blue, unlike Seawind, was a town that _hadn't _been utterly destroyed by the Inferno, that _hadn't _had its people set alight, that hadn't…hadn't…

Snow kicked the murky water, droplets of the liquid sailing through the air.

"Listen," Canning said as they continued walking, his face illuminated in the glow of his own torch. "I'm…sorry about-"

"Don't," interrupted Snow.

"What?"

"Don't start the whole sorry routine, otherwise I'll have to go with the 'thank you routine,'" Snow said, picking up her pace. "I'm just here because this is how the world works."

"Huh?"

"Seawind is destroyed. I'm thrown into a world of insanity that involves long-dead races, the return of the elements, and every living creature apparently being out for my blood." Snow sniffed, regretting it as the smell of sewerage entered her nostrils. "So I'm here to do a job, and be rewarded for it. I get gold, I get a quest item-"

"A what?"

"…and then I go on my way." Snow glanced at her companion. "Capiche?"

"Yeah, sure," Canning said. "Capiche."

Snow sighed.

Port Blue was a thriving town on the surface, and technically, its underbelly didn't dispel that notion. But Port Blue was heavily populated – people generated waste, that waste had to go somewhere, and in their desire to not pollute the sea, that "somewhere" was the sewers. And in recent times, something had happened. "Living slime," the people called it. "Supernatural." "Retribution." Various other declarations of doom and gloom that Snow didn't care about. She'd seen too much, and done too much to care about Slime, even the so-called "King Slime" that everyone was talking about. But the council wanted it gone, she'd established a name for herself in the past month, so she decided to take on the job. A.k.a. quest. "Job" was such a bland name.

"Holy shit."

"You're walking in shit Canning. I…oh."

Snow stopped walking. Canning, the sewer guard that had been assigned to her, stopped walking too. Because in front of them was one of the waste disposal sections, a centrifuge to separate solids from liquids. An impressive feat of engineering, entirely ruined by a green monster plodding around.

"King Slime," Canning whispered. "Ancestors, the rumours were true."

Snow remained silent. Walking slime. She'd dealt with worse. And while the creature possessed fangs, a pair of blades, and armour welded to his green, slimy body, she didn't see anything particularly 'kingly' about the creature.

"So, um, yeah," Canning said. "This is, er, where you do your stuff, right? Save the day? Fight the good fight."

Snow shrugged. "I guess."

Canning said something else but Snow didn't hear him, her gaze still focussed on the creature. Slime, blades, armour, the green…it reminded her of the Cursed Knight. A figure of green flame, with armour, with a blade, who despite his psychopathy, at least acted knightly. The sort of "honour demands I kill you, as much as I regret it" kind of thing. She liked him. This though…

_So this is my life, _Snow thought. _From knights to slime. And all the while the Inferno is edging closer._

"Course, there's another option," Canning said. "If you're, y'know, not up to it."

"Course I'm up to it," Snow snapped. She looked at him. "What other option?"

"Well, there's slime down here. Maybe we ought to get Port Blue's politicians down here too. Own kind, negotiations…that sort of thing."

Snow stared. That was the strangest thing Canning had said. The most random, the most out of nowhere, the most…the most…

And she laughed.

The joke was simple. It was, at worst, spiteful. But she laughed. She'd almost forgotten how to. But…it felt good.

"Don't worry," she said, patting Canning on the shoulder. "I've got this."

Smiling, she jumped down to the lower level. Growling, "King Slime" turned to face her. Grinning, she channelled her powers of water.

_Bring it._

And the battle began.


End file.
